


Dance In The Graveyards

by LemonScience33



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: First Kiss, Holidays, M/M, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:38:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5524025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonScience33/pseuds/LemonScience33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As they round the next corner and lights come on, Newt’s first thought is, <i>This had better be worth it, because we’re definitely gonna get caught.</i></p><p>His second thought is, <i>That is the skull of Otachi’s baby, with lights strung over it.</i></p><p>His third thought is, <i>This is definitely worth it.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance In The Graveyards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kurama2212](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kurama2212).



> This is my Pacific Rim Holiday Swap 2015 gift for kurama2212, who requested Newt/Hermann with the prompt "fuck da police." I wasn't sure where to go with that, so I just started writing, and it led me here. I hope you like this!
> 
> Huge thanks to Emmalyn and patster223 for the beta-reading!

“What are we doing here, Hermann?” Newt says. “This place isn’t even open to the public yet.”

“We, Newton,” says Hermann in a weary tone, “are not ‘the public,’ as you’re so fond of reminding everyone.”

The Hong Kong War Museum is spacious and impressive despite the dust of the ongoing construction, and anyway, Hermann has a point. “Sure,” Newt allows, “But don’t we need, like, visitor passes? And an escort? I mean, ‘fuck da police,’ but watching you talk us out of a prison cell in broken Cantonese isn’t exactly how I’d pictured my New Year’s Eve.”

At this, Hermann turns sharply and sighs in a put-upon manner. “Newton,” he says in a low voice. “Of the two of us, which of us makes predictions years in advance, and which of us is known for carrying out short-sighted plans that nearly get him killed?”

Newt raises his eyebrows. “...and save the world,” he appends, because that’s an important point that needs to be made.

Hermann’s lips twitch. “If you can find it in your kaiju-loving heart to simply _trust_ me,” he says, “I would very much appreciate it.”

Newt lets out a breath that is not a sigh, it’s _not_. What is he supposed to say to that? He licks his lips. “Okay,” he says. “All right, Hermann, I’ll shut up and trust you.”

As they round the next corner and lights come on, Newt’s first thought is, _This had better be worth it, because we’re definitely gonna get caught._

His second thought is, _That is the skull of Otachi’s baby, with lights strung over it_.

His third thought is, _This is definitely worth it_.

“I’ve never been one for grand gestures,” Hermann says. “But I thought I might bring you here tonight because, well…” Hermann clears his throat, and Newt realizes he’s nervous. “Because the first time we were in each other’s skulls was also the first time we were in hers. And since we can’t do the former anymore, I thought you might like to do the latter again, for old time’s sake.”

 _Shit,_ Newt thinks.

“Shit,” Newt says.

A smile flits over Hermann’s face. He holds out his hand, and Newt takes it and follows him inside the skull.

Blue-and-white lights line the interior of the cranium, draped over ropes that wrap around the specimen.

“I can’t believe you would do this for me,” Newt says with awe. “I mean, _with_ me,” he corrects, laughing as he remembers the last time.

Hermann looks pleased. “Marshal Hansen pulled some strings, and Raleigh and Miss Mori helped to set it up.”

“Remind me to thank them, too,” Newt murmurs, then realizes he hasn’t thanked Hermann yet. “Shit,” he says again. “I have no idea how to thank you for all this. The New Year’s gift I got you is classy, expensive, and nowhere near as rad.”

The lights cast a soft glow over Hermann, over the jut of his cheekbones and his jawline, the hollows that have mostly filled in over the past few months without war. “You’re welcome,” Hermann says. Hermann’s smile is almost fond, and Newt lets himself stare, just this once. This is Newt’s colleague of the last fourteen years, his friend of a decade, the man who joined minds with him to save the world, _Hermann_ , whom Newt tried to hate but has been in love with for pretty much forever. Newt’s feelings for this man span a third of his lifetime.

Newt looks away, looks up instead, because Hermann is his friend, and Hermann doesn’t want to see _I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU_ plastered across Newt’s face.

It’s because Newt is looking up that he spots something hanging from the rope directly above them and realizes two important facts in quick succession:

  1. Someone ( _Hermann_ ) smuggled in _mistletoe_ and hung it _inside a kaiju skull_.
  2. Hermann is still holding his hand.



Newt looks at Hermann, who is still holding his hand.

“That’s mistletoe,” Newt points out.

Hermann, _still holding Newt’s hand_ , takes a breath, and Newt can feel him shaking. “It is,” he says.

“Oh,” Newt says.

Hermann swallows and steps into Newt’s space. “Tell me if I’m wrong,” Hermann says, and leans in.

“Oh god, you’re not wrong, you’ve never been wrong,” Newt says against Hermann’s mouth, as Hermann drops his cane and lets go of Newt’s hand in favor of burying both his own in Newt’s hair.

Newt, after a few moments of sensory overload and flailing indecision, settles on cupping Hermann’s sharp cheekbones in his palms, and kissing him and kissing him for long minutes, making embarrassing noises and swallowing the beautiful sounds Hermann makes until they’re both panting.

Hermann pulls back and rests his forehead against Newt’s, laughing delightedly and breathing Newt’s air, his breath warm on Newt’s face. “I’ll remind you later,” he says, “about me never having been wrong.”

“I didn’t say you’d never be wrong in the future, okay?” Newt says, and kisses Hermann again, then once more for good measure. “I’m just saying, you’re not wrong right now. You’re very, very right.”

Newt’s body is going to float away. This is fake, this is a dream, this is the best dream he’s ever had. Hermann – who has known Newt for fourteen years, who has seen him at his best and worst, who saved the world with him – _Hermann_ decorated a kaiju skull with holiday lights and mistletoe and kissed him. Newt’s whole body vibrates with how much he loves this man, and he has to say it. He’ll shake apart if he doesn’t.

“I love you, Hermann,” he says. “I really fucking love you.” 

Hermann’s lips part, and for a moment he just stares at Newt, whose heart is beating out of his chest. Then he smiles softly and lets out a little puff of air. “And I you, Newton,” he says, sounding awed. “For far longer than I care to admit.”

So Newt has to kiss him, obviously, which is why they’re kissing when all the lights come on and a guard yells at them in Cantonese.

“I should never have trusted you,” Newt says, laughing. “Fuck da police, Herms.”

Newt hopes Hermann has paperwork to prove they’re allowed to be here. Failing that, he hopes Hermann’s Cantonese is good enough to get them out of this.

But if not… Well, if not, then as long as they get to share a cell for the night, it’ll be alright.

Hermann, who is saying something to the guard, pulls an official-looking envelope from his jacket with one hand. He takes Newt’s hand with the other.

 _Yeah,_ Newt thinks. _It’ll be just fine._

**Author's Note:**

>  _While I’m alive_  
>  _I don’t want to be alone_  
>  _Mourning the ones who came before_  
>  _I want to dance with them some more_  
>  _Let’s dance in the graveyards_  
>     
> ~ "Dance In The Graveyards" by Delta Rae


End file.
